When I joined Facebook last year, it was a direct result of a breakup I had just experienced. However, I promised myself that I would never use my account to start any drama or partake in anyone else's. That vow still stands. Any dalliances or liaisons I've incurred since then have been referred to obliquely in my status updates if at all. Hell, I didn't even establish the "relationship status" on my profile page for the first six months. Yes, it has been difficult to resist the temptation of calling Emily on her shit, or announcing to the world how much it hurt being lied to by Sarah, or talking about how unstable almost everyone else seems to be. Temptation is nothing new to me, though; after all, I've entertained the thought of having a drink once in a while, but I remain six years sober.

Come to find out a year later that almost nobody holds themselves to such a high standard on Facebook. It feels like everyday I'm dodging through Katy fighting with Hank, Kevin pining after Alicia, Emily feeling jilted, Sarah getting played like a cheap fiddle, and Xylia's inability to do anything about Brian. And DON'T even get me started on the single parents that can't keep their passive aggression to themselves, or at least between them and the other halves of their collective single parent equations.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I kinda feel cheated by not telling everyone on my friends list what it feels like when your former love, two days after breaking your heart, wails to you, "You're my best friend!" and you want to believe her as much as she thinks she believes herself but you know deep down that you can't allow it. (In case you're interested in knowing, it's a sensation that haunts you for the rest of your life.) I could also describe the feeling like you're being thrown headlong into a dystopian alternate reality based on Murphy's Law. (It's strangely comforting if you watch enough movies or read enough comic books based upon the selfsame scenario.) How about an observation on the length of time one would want to scream at the top of their lungs when one's ex-girlfriend proclaims she isn't actively seeking a new partner, but then a CRAIGSLIST W4M AD is found, authored by her, that suggests the contrary not an hour later? I've quantified that quite handily. (Only until I stood her up the next day, by accident but without compunction, on a movie date we were supposed to have.)

So it may have been slightly justified to air said grievances on Facebook, but then I remember that I have two things at my disposal:

Dignity

A LiveJournal account

Also, if you are one of the people I mentioned above and somehow stumbled upon this entry: give it a rest for once, will ya?

Six months ago, I wrote in here about being so incredibly happy with my life. The next day, Emily decided she wanted to leave me.

I'm still pretty happy, but it's taken a lot of work to keep it that way.

Quick summary of everything since then: Still living in Milwaukee, still loving Milwaukee, still working at the same job after almost ten years, STILL SOBER. Got a roommate, got to keep the cat, got a DJ gig at Club Anything, (2nd and 4th Wednesday of every month) got into a car accident mere days before Christmas and suffered bruised ribs, got a Subaru to replace the Prizm, got a freakin' haircut for once. Seeing more of the friends that I didn't see for a while, making new friends, buying new clothes that make me feel awesome, eating copious amounts of pizza but still somehow keeping my weight in check.

After my heart got broken, I kept telling people, "If the next few months don't kill me, nothing can." So I guess I win at life now.

Five year sobriety anniversary There were a few remarks I wanted to make on here today in commemoration of making an effort to get my shit together five years ago...

First off, I'll just say, that I still run into people that are absolutely incredulous to the fact that I don't drink anymore, and that I don't have plans to drink anymore, much less with them. Really now, why is it still that crazy to people that this is the way I want to live my life from now on? The minute I tried to do something that helps people to not worry about me, they started worrying about me more, apparently. It's weird. Last month I went to a show, and this girl I knew from my drinking days was wondering what I'd been up to, or was at least pretending to care about what I'd been up to. The minute I mention my sobriety, she looked at me like I was an entirely different person, like maybe she shouldn't be talking to me. Then in an effort to make her stop acting like I'm the insane one, I told her that, whether I'm drinking or not, that's not something that defines me as a person. Then she laughed. Right in my face. It doesn't bother me that that's how the scenario played out. It surprises me, though, that people are still treating this like it's an endeavor that I embarked upon only yesterday. So I ask myself, what would it take to lend credence to my self-preservation? But then I remind myself I don't need that. Between Emily and me, I have everything I need. My life is exactly the way that I want it right now.

When's the last time you've ever said that? Think about it. I guess the culmination of everything leads to me saying that. It's a great reward to give yourself.

Well, I promised myself that I would type something in these hallowed annals of my existence before midnight today. So I'm done now. Thanks for reading. Maybe I'll write something in here next year, too. *pfft*

Doesn't matter what the press says. Doesn't matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principle above all else: stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth and tell the whole world-- "No, YOU move."

My grandmother passed away early morning September 9th. I haven't really wanted to write much about it. It was really sad to know that I wouldn't be seeing her ever again, but the reality of it is that her mind had been gone for years anyway. I was able to see her off the day before her death. Before that, though, it had been two years since we talked. It was after Thanksgiving, and I was wallowing in the quandary of my then-recent car accident. Her thoughts were not articulate, and what little I did take from our conversation was from such a strenuous effort. Like when I asked what she liked watching on TV, she was really vague, then she got sidetracked with other thoughts, then yet more, until five minutes later she said, "Dancing With The Stars". It broke my heart to see her in this condition.

But that was nothing compared to when she was hours away from the end of her life. When the news was broken to me on the 6th that Granny wouldn't be long for this Earth, I decided that I didn't want to see her. There was an epiphany somewhere in the hours afterward, and my mind changed. My mother, my uncle and all of my aunts were there to see her off. She was in a sleep from which she would not wake. My expectations as to what she would be like upon my arrival weren't really high, but it was soon apparent that I wasn't mentally prepared to see her this way. I had a chance to tell her thanks for everything, and that I was glad to have had her in my life. I don't believe that she heard it. The odds that the message was not intercepted by all the drugs that she was on, her declining brain function, her unconsciousness, and the fact that I was so choked up that I couldn't really say it at any volume level that would be appropriate in order for any grandmother to hear it are laughable. Nevertheless, I feel better that I did get to say goodbye. I missed that opportunity with Papa seven years ago.

There was a good old Catholic funeral and I was asked to read a little bit. My mom wrote and recited the eulogy. I bought a suit at Luv Unlimited just for the occasion, and I looked awesome. Beyond that, I have been doing better now. Life's not been without its charm. Hiking, Tupperware party, Rock Band 2, being pissed off at Microsoft for messing up my Zune sync list, crazy neighbor girl, Scrabble, Dave Barry, good food, all that crap. But now it's late, and I need to go to bed.

Last but not least, congratulations to Eric and Marie Miller on the arrival of Nora. May your lives be filled with joy that new life brings.

My old car is gone. Thanks to some very helpful people, I now have a 2001 Prizm. I'm liking it a lot.

Let's seeeeeeee, what else? Emily and I are slated to move into a place in May. Kinda daunting. But I know it will be fine.

Been hooked on Animal Crossing: City Folk. This is a vital addiction I have, as it keeps me from spending money on frivolities. Who would've thought?

Lawsuit money is still trickling in. It'll be done in a few months.

Atomic Records is going under. It's really sad. Records stores really ARE becoming a thing of the past. But you know what? I'm not going to stop buying music from a tangible source until such places no longer exist. By the looks of it, that's where we're headed. Cripes. I already outfitted Emily with an mp3 player on her birthday. I'm not really bragging. I'm underlining the importance of the realization I made, I guess.

Watchmen is gonna be so... BITCHIN'! It hits theaters on the day after my birthday. So guess "who watches the Watchmen," lol?

Or maybe it's lupus. Okay. I've been watching House M.D. for about a year and a half now. It was a program that really piqued my interest for a few reasons. The characters are great, the writing is fantastic, and the element of suspense really draws me in, I guess. As far as I'm concerned, they made a good show even better when they brought in Kal Penn. Now I feel as if the show may be approaching the end of its useful life to me and others.

In short, I'm calling right here and now that the show will jump the shark by the end of this season.

Here's my prediction: Cuddy is gonna have a baby, thus beginning the steady decline of everything that makes House so awesome. Now it's quite possible that I could be dead wrong on all of this. It's also possible, being that Bryan Singer is largely responsible for producing House, that there will be a gigantic plot twist and Cuddy won't have a baby due to some other tragic shit. For now, though, I am remaining skeptical. Because with any luck, the aforementioned plot twist will happen after the baby is born, which means they'd still jump the shark. In the unfortunate event of a shark being jumped, will I keep watching? Will House still be able to hack it, or will it become tripe? Will I have a show to fall back on, such as Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles? Forget the election. THESE are the issues that really matter.

In other TV news (and don't tell anyone that I said this), if American Gladiators comes back for another season, I may stop watching that, too.

"Become wrath..." So some assholes with whom I work told me that Barack Obama is a Muslim who hates America. Now, let's pretend for a moment that those statements are true, and that none of that was taken into consideration before his nomination by the DNC and ask the following...

Even if he is a follower of Islam, why does that matter?Seriously, now. What is everyone's obsession with automatically discrediting religions that aren't their own? Does that give me the right to complain that we don't have a big-ticket atheist nominee? There's no cause to believe that a US president, no matter his religion, would make a Christian majority such as America into a regime that is foreign to even itself.

At this point, who doesn't hate America?This is a question asked by me strictly out of rage. It's like when David Cross says he hates (America's) freedom because it allows things like electric scissors to be profitable or people like Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie to be successful. I HATE OUR FREEDOM, TOO. I hate the fact that the ignorant fuckos that I work with are allowed freedom of speech. I hate it because I fear that they are in the majority around here. They are the ones whose voices are going to be heard. It's not fair. Is this how you want America to be represented? The worst part of this is that I don't feel like we have anything to gain even if I disproved them. They will still vote for McCain before they have sufficient facts.

Boy, do I ever wanna leave with Emily and live somewhere in Canada. I can't go to Canada anymore, though. It seems that a DUI offense will bar you from that particular country. I really shot myself in the foot that way, didn't I? Well, fuck...

We've talked in the past about being together for life, but not marrying. About a month ago, though, we talked marriage. Why would that not appeal to me? I mean really. We belong together. That's that. Giving her the ring on the 13th just seemed like the most natural thing. Both of our families have been informed, and there's nothing but optimism on both sides. All of this is quite exciting, as you may well imagine. So yeah. FKN PARTY!

My eye is feeling a lot better. The diagnosis was indeed iritis, so I got prescribed some dilating thing and topical steroids. In case you didn't know, it's not so fun to instill (Cyclogyl) dilating drops. It IS fun to only have them needed in one eye so then you can freak out your friends with your one big pupil. Ha. Anyway, we noticed a little lump in my iris. Supposedly it's just a little excess pigment. The doctor wanted me to come in today so we could see about getting rid of it. He can't. Ah well. It seemed like he was getting a little OCD about it. I mean from what it sounded like, the getting-rid-of-the-lump agenda didn't sound like a "have to" thing in the frist place. But whatever. I go back on Tuesday just to see how I'm doing.

Cyanotic will be playing a show at Club Anything next Friday. I saw them there once before quite recently. To anyone that is of age and in the area, I strongly urge you to see these very talented fellows do what they do best. I will try to be there in my best sneer and orange Nikes.

My eye is all fucked up. It has been since the first of the month. That day I woke up with gouging pain from looking toward light sources. It was all red and dischargey, too. I went to the doctor for it, and was prescribed antibiotic eye drops. They worked, but now I apparently need to stay on them or else the symptoms flare up again. So on Thursday I'm going to an ophthamologist to see what else can be done to my wallet for my eye.

This really sucks. Ever since I received my stimulus payment, I was planning on saving my money for once. Now it looks like something in that vein is not to be. Is it really true that I CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS? I ask this because not only do I have to throw my money at this shit, but my car's blower motor is also on the blink. Do you know how hot it's been in the Milwaukee area? Now imagine that multiplied (or what have you) by a car interior that's been in the sun for a while. It's like jumping into a pool of ground beef. In lieu of the blower motor, I now have one of those fans that you clip to the visor. Kinda like what you would see a school bus equipped with. The entire situation is asinine.

I will always maintain, though, that if this is the worst that it's going to get right now, then I'm still sitting pretty.

All right. It's been a long time since my thoughts and writings haven't been partially monopolized by tales of litigation. So for now I'm ready to put that all aside and write about other minutiae that I couldn't write about before because I was sad.

So a lot of you who have read my LJ since its inception may remember that I quit smoking at least three times, but could never make it stick. Well, guess what? I quit smoking again around the end of May. Before that, I'd cut way down anyway because there's a smoking ban at my place of employment. As a result, almost every cigarette I consumed felt like the first one I ever had; they me feel sick to my stomach, gave me a feeling of dysphoria accompanied by dizziness, and so on. For quite some time I had told myself that I would quit smoking once I stop enjoying it. So I did. It wasn't that easy, but I just kept reminding myself that riding the wave of a nicotine fit beats the Hell out of how smoking had made me feel. Also, it kinda gave me license to be pissed off. Had to feel righteous for once. I don't feel like I overdid it, though.

Saw the following in the theater so far this summer...

Harold And Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay

Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull

Speed Racer

Dark Knight

They were all good. Dark Knight tops all of them. Speed Racer was beautiful in a way that only a story about a boy and his car could be. These movies both fall into a category affectionately known as the "holy shit" category.

Well, I'm gonna hang it up for now. Stay tuned for more overdue entries where I talk about things that happened months ago as if they happened yesterday. Seriously, brace yourself. Coz I'm gonna do it.